


Please Respond

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Missing scenes, 1.16 "Shuttlepod One." (06/05/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: I wrote this after watching Battle of Britain for the 57th time on Anzac Day, 25th April (fellow Aussiesâ€”waves to Sonja just up the roadâ€”will know what Anzac Day is). There's a scene where on of the WAAF's is trying, and failing, to contact a missing plane. And I thoughtâ€”that could be Hoshi.  
  
Betas: ShiShi, Jamalia, Rodlox, Chibi, Dragoncait, Leah, Dqueaky, Stexgirl...oh, why not just say all of MHE, you wonderful people you  


* * *

_Ship's log, 1632: Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Kumar failed to meet Enterprise at the rendezvous coordinates. Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Sato are initiating a search._

"Enterprise to Shuttlepod One. Please respond. Enterprise to Shuttlepod One. Please respond. Enterprise..."

Oh, please respond. Please.

That shuttlepod is jinxed, I'm sure of it. So are most of the crew. I'm never going in it again. If it comes back. No, it will come back. Heâ€” theyâ€” will be safe. There is no such thing as jinxing.

But why did it have to be Shuttlepod One again?

"Shuttlepod One, can you hear me? This is Enterprise. Please respond."

_Ship's log, 1657: Sub-Commander T'Pol reported that there was no trace of the shuttlepod on sensors._

I didn't need to hear that, T'Pol. I ignore the implications of her statement and instead try to eliminate the hissing sounds over the comm, the background radiation that can mask a weak signal.

I've used the standard procedures for a search only six times now. And each time it's ended well, and each time I've been able to refine the search parameters. I've discovered it's easier to search each frequency, modulating and equalizing and refining, and then move on to the next. So that's what I do.

I hope it never becomes second nature.

"Enterprise to Lieutenant Reed, please respond."

Come on, Malcolm. Talk to me. Through my panic I manage a wry smile. I've envisaged saying those words to Malcolm so many times, but never like this. Never like this, waiting, listening to the noise of the galaxy for the one sound that willâ€”

_Ship's log, 1708: Ensign Sato recommended a boost to the comm. system._

If he's out there I'll hear him. Surely I have super-sensitive hearing for a reason. And if it's so I can hear a faint trace of them, well, all to the good. I will hear them, I'll hear the faintest sound that isn't random noise or  
radiation or solar wind or anything else. I'll hear them, calling me, calling for help. I'll hear them.

_Ship's log, 1717: The boosted sensors have not shown any sign of the Shuttlepod._

"â€”to Lieutenant Reed, please respond."

Once we've found them, I never want to have to say those words again.

Oh, why won't you respond? Where are you? Malcolm...

If you're safe, I'll tell you. I can't go on like this. I can't risk losing you without telling you how I feel. And you'll probably smile that awkward half smile, and retreat behind ranks and rules and formality, but I don't care. At least you'll know that someone loves you. But if the worst happens, and I never get the chance to tell you...no, I can't, I won't say it. Not even to myself. You're alive.

_Ship's log, 1730: We have initiated a search pattern looking for some sign of the Shuttlepod._

"Shuttlepod One, pleaseâ€”" The message is automated now. My voice was giving out and I wanted to concentrate totally on noise.

Noise without a pattern. Noise without meaning. No, it has meaning. It's the background cosmic noise, I know that. But without Malcolm my cosmos will become meaningless.

My ear is sore from the earpiece so I switch sides. It feels odd, in my right ear: I wear it in my left ear so I can listen to it and to the people on the bridge. But not today. Today I concentrate on static, on noise that has no meaning until I hear Malcolm's voice.

I take a ten second break from the earpiece and stretch my neck out. Everyone is looking tense. There's a double shift here: no-one from Alpha shift left at the end of duty, and Beta shift came early to help. There's a quiet murmuring in the bridge, a noise with meaning. A purpose. To find them.

_Ship's log, 1851. We are approaching the ring system of the gas giant. Our sensors are being distorted by the radiation from the planet. Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol have amended the sensors to compensate._

Occam's razor. The most simple solution is that they've had some sort of accident and their comms are down. After all, they were testing the shuttle's weaponry on the rocks of the ring system.

Stupid, stupid weapons. And stupid stupid rocks. So many rocks and so many possible accidents. And the stupid stupid gas giant is making a sound like one of those retro kettles that whistle when they boil.

And of course Occam's razor could just as easily say that they banged into a piece of stupid stupid rock and got their stupid selves blown to smithereens.

No, don't think it. Stupid stupid Hoshi. You're just tired, everyone is. Malcolm and Yohan are alive, and you'll hear it over the comm.

You will.

You will.

Hearing it right now would be nice.

_Ship's log, 1900: Alpha shift has a thirty minute break for dinner. Beta shift is planning a possible route over the ring system._

I listen to the Captain, T'Pol and Trip try out scenarios and contingencies. Travis is rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck out.

I look out the window and try not to imagine shuttlepod wreckage, shattered and small, blending in amongst the rocks.

I will hear them.

_Ship's log, 1930: We have embarked on a zig-zag pattern over the ring system, at approximately 750 metres above the system._

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...

And then I hear it. The faintest overlay to the shrieking and hissing and crackling. It wasn't quite rhythmic, it wasn't mechanical, but it wasn't ordinary static either.

It was a voice.

I boost everything to maximum. The static is overwhelming but I can hear the other sound. I can hear them.

"...to Enterprise, can you hear us? This is Shuttlepod One calling Enterprise..."

I am so proud that my voice only betrays a restrained joy. "Captain, I think I've found them."

_Ship's log, 2117: Shuttlepod One, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Kumar are found and safely back on board. They crashed after a stray piece of the ring system disabled them. Fortunately they crashed onto one of the largest rocks. I must commend Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker for their adjustments to the sensors; and Ensign Sato for hers to the comms system. Both Alpha and Beta shifts performed their duties to the highest level under conditions of great personal stress._

Two days later. Malcolm had calmed down after his usual self-flagellation for putting Yohan in danger. I had turned three of the worst hours of my life into something positive: working with Trip on an automatic, boosted, simple emergency beacon.

And now it was dinner, and there was Malcolm sitting alone. My heart still filled with joy to see him safe. And every time I heard that clipped, controlled voice I wanted to spin with happiness.

But there was something I had to do. I'd thought about itâ€” oh, how I'd thought, and planned, and agonised. I'd promised myself, hadn't I, that I'd tell him.

I had helped find them, I had heard their voices first. I had held myself together even when inside I was a screaming mess. I could do all that, so I should be able to tell him this one, tiny thing.

So I squared my shoulders, held on firmly to my mug of tea, and walked over to his table. He looked up and smiled when he saw me in front of him.

"Hoshi," he said, and there was something in his voice that I hadn't heard before. "Have I told you how amazingly wonderful it always is to hear your voice over the comm?"

I clutched my mug even more tightly. I took a deep breath, and told him.

And he listened, and responded. And the universe was overflowing with the most glorious sound imaginable: his voice, filled with love.


End file.
